


Not yet a Woman

by mira (stellamira)



Category: Pop Music RPF, Popslash, Supernatural
Genre: Genderswap, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-09-19
Updated: 2009-09-19
Packaged: 2017-10-31 16:19:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,319
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/346075
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stellamira/pseuds/mira
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean somehow gets turned into a girl. Luckily there are experts for that sort of thing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Not yet a Woman

**Author's Note:**

> I find it highly amusing how differently the Pop and the Supernatural fandom treat things like genderswap, so I had to write my own take on that.

Dean woke up when Sam threw a pillow at him from across the room. "Get up, you lazy-ass, you gotta drive me to school."

"Fuck off," Dean grumbled into the pillow. It was too early. It was _always_ too early, but this time Dean had stumbled in at around three, nursing a sore shoulder and his wounded pride. He'd needed three shots to bring that son of a bitch down. Three! Eventually, though, he knew he had to get up if he didn't want Sammy to drive himself. The thought of the Impala being left in a high school parking lot made him shiver. And maybe he could check in on Kate, one of the chem teachers, who was smart and funny and had long chestnut-colored curls that Dean liked to twist around his fingers.

So he dragged himself out of bed and promptly toppled over, landing on something soft and squishy.

"Ow. The hell?" His voice sounded different, too. Too... high. He pushed himself up off the floor, and this was so _not right_. There was something hanging from his chest, his amulet swinging between –

Dean looked at his hands, the small fingers. He stood up slowly, cupping his hands over his nipples. "Sam?"

"Whuh?" Sam wandered back into the room with his toothbrush hanging out of his mouth. When he saw Dean he stopped dead, eyes widening. He took out the toothbrush, dripping foam. "Holy fuck." It was unfamiliar coming out of his baby brother's mouth because Sam rarely swore, but Dean was pretty positive the situation called for it. "Dean, you've got breasts."

"Thank you, Captain Obvious," Dean snapped.

"Do you, um... all over?"

"No, I just decided some implants would make my pecs look more impressive." Dean glared at him. "If you mean whether my fucking dick is gone, yes." He pulled at the waistband of his boxers, far too loose now. "Wanna see?"

"God Dean, _no_ , you're so gross," Sam shouted, backing away, but Dean had always been quicker and he had Sam crowded against the wall before Sam could flee back into the bathroom. Sam's eyes kept flicking anywhere but at Dean's breasts, hands grappling to fight Dean off but apparently too scared to land anywhere inappropriate.

And of course Dad picked that moment to come in to see what all the noise was about. "What's going on, boys?"

"Dean got himself turned into a girl!" Sam yelled as if it was Dean's fault that he'd woken up like this.

"Huh," Dad just said.

***

He still had to drive Sam to school while Dad promised to get into the research, and endure Sam teasing him about his "butch" haircut and the jeans and flannel hanging from his body the whole way.

Dean stopped a few yards away from the school. "I'll be back to pick you up. Don't hang out in the library again, or I'm driving off without you."

Sam grinned. "Whatever you say. _Ma_."

Dean tapped his foot on the gas pedal when Sam was halfway out the door, making the car lurch forward and Sam stumble. Served him right, the little bitch.

He wondered if Kate would be up for some lesbian action.

***

When Dean got home – technically he should've gone to work, but he doubted Benny would recognize him as the kid he paid to help out a few hours a week at the garage – Dad was sitting at the kitchen table, a massive pile of books in front of him, papers strewn all around. Dean picked one up: _Gender Dysphoria – A Guide to Transsexualism_. Horrified, Dean dropped it back on the table.

"Uh, Dad?"

Dad looked up. "Might be a spell, but I thought it'd be better to follow any kind of lead. Could take a while, though. You better go bra shopping, son." Dad focused on the open book before him again, but Dean could _see_ that he was fighting a grin.

Fine. Dean got himself a beer from the fridge and slammed the door. He could take being a girl for a few days. He wasn't bad-looking, girlier features and curves and damn fine tits if he dared say so himself. But he wasn't going to buy a bra, and if he ended up getting his period, there would be hell to pay.

***

Four days later Dean was still a girl. He'd been forced to buy a bra, after all, when he'd gone out one night and felt every goddamn guy in the bar stare at his nipples under the one shirt that fit him. He'd accidentally shrunk it in the dryer last week. At least he'd gotten the salesgirl to feel up his breasts as she'd measured him; that had been awesome.

He now also owned a pair of jeans that weren't hopelessly oversized, several plain shirts, a hoodie and a jacket. That had to be enough, Dean didn't plan on staying a girl long enough for Sam to manhandle him into some pink flowery dress.

So he was incredibly relieved when he came back from picking Sammy up from school and Dad said, "Boys, I found something. Someone. An expert."

"Thank God." Dean scratched under his arms. Those damn underwires digging into his skin made him itch. "Who? Where? How fast can we be there?"

Dad smiled tightly. "You won't like it."

***

"Why do I have to come?" Sam whined. For the fifth time since they'd left Edinboro on their way to Hershey. One more time and Dean was going to smack him. With his rather small, delicate hand. Fuck. The sooner this was resolved, the better.

"Because Dad's going on a hunt and you can't stay home alone."

"I'm eighteen!" Sam protested.

"See?" Dean accelerated, overtaking a car with posters taped to every available window. "Barely out of diapers. Besides, no need to deny it, I know you have a crush on that Timberlake guy."

"I don't –" Sam glared, then crossed his arms over his chest. "Whatever. ‘s not like _you_ won't fit right in, you're the typical Joey fan."

"What?"

Sam dug around in the backpack at his feet and pulled out some glossy teen mag.

"Jesus, Sam, you bought this?" Why was _Dean_ the one who'd gotten turned into a girl?

"No." Sam scowled. "Carrie asked me to see if I could get it signed."

"You told someone where we're going?!"

"I was supposed to study with her this weekend, we've got finals coming up. Of course I had to tell her. Don't worry," Sam grinned, "I didn't tell her everything, just that you'd scored two tickets and desperately wanted to go."

Dean grunted. He might get away with it if he accidentally left Sam at the next rest stop.

"Anyway." Sam flipped the magazine open, and Dean glanced over: _Which member of *NSYNC are you most likely to be with?_ "I filled out some of these questions for you and, ‘You'd date Joey. You're the easy-going girl with a big heart and a sense of humor. You love to flirt and get to know people, but you always put family and friends first. Plus, Joey likes a girl who enjoys a good pizza.' I just couldn't remember: What's your favorite NSync song, _Giddy Up_ or _It's Gonna Be Me_?"

"Bite me," Dean ground out.

Sam just laughed.

***

They were a good five hours early for the concert, but the parking lot was already filled with cars decked out in posters, self-made window clings and banners announcing CANDICE, RACHEL & HEATHER LUV *NSYNC. One of the girls from the car next to them, dressed in jeans that were about two sizes too small for her, a halter top and a pink cowboy hat, offered them a POP bumper sticker. Dean's glare must've been even more murderous than he thought, because she backed away pretty fast while Sam smiled at her apologetically.

Dean didn't know why Caleb had connections to a boyband – he wasn't sure he _wanted_ to know, honestly – but it meant they got to go past the horde of girls camped out in front of the stadium to a side entrance. Thank God; some of those chicks looked truly frightening.

The guys were at soundcheck, one of the biggest mountain of a man Dean had ever seen explained to them inside, but they were welcome to hang around and grab something to eat. Dean perked up at that. He hadn't eaten anything but a couple of candy bars since breakfast. There had to be red meat somewhere with his name on it.

Half a burger and a small pile of fries later a guy walked into the room where Sam and Dean were sitting, low-riding jeans, gray shirt and out of control hair. He wandered over to the buffet and stared at it for at least a minute, as if he'd never seen pasta before. Then he picked up one of the warmed plates, heaped some rice onto it and stared again.

Dean swallowed his bite before he spoke. Well, mostly swallowed, anyway. "Dude, check out that guy."

"Huh?" Sam twisted around in his seat, then abruptly turned back. "Dean," he hissed. "That's him."

"Who?"

"The guy we're supposed to meet, JC Cha-sezz. There was a picture of him in the magazine."

Dean put his burger down. "Seriously?"

***

"So, you're telling me this is... No. These things don't _just happen_. There's gotta be a... a spell, or some kind of creature, or..." Dean was pacing up and down. _Expert_. As if.

JC tilted his head, curly hair falling on one shoulder. He was watching Dean intently. It was distracting. "There was no spell. Your friend Caleb checked when it happened to me. We just woke up like that."

"You all were a girl for a while?" Sam asked.

"No," the other guy, Joey, said. He'd come in halfway through JC's decision between chicken or fish, and Dean had certainly not noticed the wink Joey had sent his way. "Just JC and Lance, but that was a while ago. We had to make something up about him collapsing and having to spend some time in hospital. He couldn't hit those low notes anymore."

"Lance was a pretty girl." JC nodded. "Not much different than how he looks now, actually. But yeah, not the best base singer. Hey, you guys are staying for the concert, right? I can get you into first row."

_I'd rather be caught_ dead _than in the first row at an NSync concert_ , Dean thought. Aloud he said, "Look, no offense, but you obviously can't help us. So we'll just leave, search for something else that'll –"

"Oh." Joey exchanged a glance with JC, whose face had fallen. "We were hoping you'd hang around some, have a few drinks after the show. The guys would be happy to see you, Chris hasn't shut up about the supernatural stuff since the last time he and Justin swapped bodies. He'd love to talk to you."

"Thanks, but we really gotta –"

"We'll stay!" Sam said quickly, elbowing Dean in the side. Trust Sam to jump at the chance to have a drink – Dad never let him have one, _ever_ , and Dean only let him get away with it on really good days – and be a geek.

"Awesome," JC said, smiling. "So, first row?"

"That's not necessary," Dean said quickly, before Sam could agree. God knew he would. "Sam and I will watch from backstage. Right, Sammy?"

He could've sworn Sam sounded disappointed when he said, "Sure."

***

"Dude, there!" Dean pulled so hard on Sam's arm that Sam nearly tripped over his own feet.

"What?" Sam said irritably.

"Britney Spears, man."

"That's not..." Sam followed Dean's gaze. "Shit. That is Britney Spears."

Dean licked his lips. "You know there are rumors that she's bisexual?"

"Dean! You can't think of – She's Justin Timberlake's girlfriend."

"So? He can join in."

" _Dean_!"

"What? I'm open-minded."

Sam cuffed him over the head. "You're something, all right."

"Hey, no hitting the girl!"

***

Watching the show on the big LCD screen backstage was... interesting. Not that Dean paid attention or anything – it was just that he had nothing else to do. He'd played poker with some of the crew guys earlier – almost too easy; he'd only had to stuff some extra tissues into his bra and nobody seemed to even _care_ anymore if he was bluffing. But they were all busy now, helping the guys change from one ridiculous costume into another, or bringing oversized toys on and off stage. And what the hell had been going on with those mechanical bulls anyway?

He wasn't sure what to make of the screaming yet, though. Even back here it was so loud it ruined any chance of conversation – or chatting up the cute redhead with the clipboard, who didn't seem to have any other job than to announce which song was going to be next when someone asked her. On the other hand it thankfully drowned out most of the music. Sam still bopped his head to the beat when he thought that Dean wasn't looking, the freak.

Dean later made a deal with him not to tease him about it if Sam never ever mentioned the look on Dean's face again when JC had come off stage, sweaty and laughing, and hugged Dean tightly.

***

Hotel bars were awesome, especially if you didn't even need your fake credit card because other people were paying for you. At least Dean thought they were, but hell if he cared after the second whiskey. Apparently his female body could hold way less liquor than his male one.

They'd all squeezed around one table, that Timberlake kid in one corner, fucking Britney Spears in his lap. Well, not that he _was fucking_ Britney Spears right now, just... _damn_. Boob job or not, she was hot. Sammy was sitting opposite of Dean, clutching his beer on the table. The waitress had only glanced at the fake ID Dean had given him for his 17th birthday. He's been already so freakishly tall by then that nobody ever noticed.

Sam laughed, a little stilted. He was getting hit on by that blond guy, whose name kept escaping Dean – something with a spear. But since it was Sam's own goddamn fault they were here, Dean ignored the occasional pleading look.

As expected none of the guys knew _anything_ about good music. Except for Chris, who admitted he didn't get the chance to listen to Zeppelin often, but appreciated their musical genius. So Chris was cool and Joey was pretty laid-back, and JC... well, so maybe he made the wrong kind of music, but he made it with his heart, which was a lot more than could be said about most wannabe singers today. Actually, music was the only thing to talk about when JC made any sense at all, even if he waived his hands a lot.

After Dean had emptied his third glass, already raising his hand for another one, JC grabbed his wrist and got up. "Oh no, honey, I think you had enough. Let's get you into a bed, huh?" He gently tugged Dean away from the table.

_Hon_ — "Hey, what about m' brother?"

"Lance will take care of him, don't worry," JC said. Dean snickered. Take care. Damn straight.

***

"How drunk are you?" JC asked up in his room when they'd made out for a while. The couches in four-star hotels were infinitely softer than the ones in motel rooms, perfect for pushing JC down and straddling him, knees digging in on either side.

Dean smirked. "Not so drunk that I'll regret this in the morning."

JC got one arm around the small of Dean's back, the other under his ass, and flipped them over. He was surprisingly strong for such a slim frame.

JC slowly licked up Dean's stomach and pushed the shirt out of the way, kissing the swell of Dean's breasts just over the bra.

"Have you done this before? In this body, I mean."

Dean laughed. "Are you kidding me? Sammy wanted to gouge his eyes out when he found the vibrator under my pillow on the second day of this."

"Good," JC said and kissed him.

Twenty minutes later, spread out on JC's bed, Dean mentally added another thing to the list of things JC was better at than talking.

Being a girl was fucking _awesome_. If Dean hadn't loved his dick so much and hadn't been kind of afraid of PMS, he seriously would've considered the benefits of staying one. JC had already made him come twice, going down on him nice and slow with two fingers inside until Dean had been ready to scream, and now he was well on his way to his third orgasm this night. He just needed to –

Dean pushed JC off and rolled them over, until JC was flat on his back and Dean was straddling him, already sinking back down. There, much better. Dean rocked back and forth experimentally, feeling the change of the angle of JC's cock inside him.

"Yeah, cat," JC groaned. Seriously, he needed to lay off the pet names, but Dean was having far too much fun to protest right now.

Dean grabbed JC's hand and dragged it between his legs, sliding his own hands up to rub and twist his nipples. JC's fingers slipped through the wetness, stroking just right and with perfect pressure. Dean closed his eyes, coming hard, and JC was there to catch him when he pitched forward, teeth in Dean's shoulder and still thrusting up and up and up.

***

"How did you know it was gonna work?" Dean asked, slinging the bag with his girl clothes in the Impala's trunk. He didn't need them anymore now, but he should probably keep them, just in case. Maybe Sam would be next, wouldn't that be fun.

JC shrugged. "I didn't. Lance and me just turned back after a while, I dunno." Dean closed the trunk and JC leaned his hip against it. "Kind of a pity, you know. You were a mighty fine mama."

"I, uh... thanks?"

"So I guess we won't see each other again, will we?"

"Ah." Dean scratched the back of his neck. "Probably not."

JC didn't seem to be upset or even particularly surprised. "That's cool. But if you ever want to, you got my number."

"Yeah." And wouldn't those girls who'd come up to the breakfast table this morning, sharpies thrust forward, have liked to have it, too. "Sammy!" Dean yelled. "Hurry up."

JC hugged Sam first and then Dean, a little too hard and too long for just a friendly goodbye. When Dean slid behind the wheel Sam was already sitting in the passenger seat, smirking. "So, you two seemed pretty friendly."

"Yeah, and how was your night?"

Sam blushed instantly, unsuccessfully trying to hide it behind his over-long bangs. "So, uh, you..." Sam cleared his throat. "You just woke up this morning –"

"With JC's hand on my dick, yes."

"Dean!" Sam shouted, then settled back with his arms crossed over his chest. "I hate you so much."

Dean laughed, a deep rumble that matched the purring engine as he started the car. Finally, none of that high giggling anymore.

"Can we go home now?" Sam asked, still sulking.

"Are you kidding me? We're going to Hersheypark."

"Dean, c'mon..."

"What? There's like, a dozen roller coasters there. JC got free tickets, but Chris is afraid of heights and they're not going, so he gave ‘em to me. C'mon, Sam. Family time. Fun! If you don't like the roller coasters, we'll find you a kiddie ride."

"Ha ha," Sam said but eventually he sighed. "Fine." And then, because he was Sam and had to say shit like that, he added, "I'm glad, you know. That you're not my sister anymore."

"Damn straight, Samantha," Dean said and stepped on the gas. "There's only space for one girl in the family."

 

End.


End file.
